


The Final Frontier

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: Jim is reunited with his estranged brother and father, only to find that they disapprove of his partnership with Blair.  Then a family tragedy threatens to break them apart for good.  Can sentinel and guide overcome outside influences and seal their bond?





	1. Prompt - His Brother's Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> A SenBingo story in 5 Chapters = 5 Prompts:  
> 1\. His Brother’s Keeper  
> 2\. Character death  
> 3\. Grateful for   
> 4\. Epiphany  
> 5\. Frontier

**Chapter 1. Prompt – His Brother’s Keeper:**   


“Oh, man! That was some scene!” Blair chuckled as he flopped down on the sofa. “Lone Ranger meets Cop of the Year! OK, Little Stogie doesn’t have the same cachet as Silver, but he didn’t do so badly!” 

Looking over at his cheerfully buzzed partner, Jim couldn’t help but respond with a sardonic grin. “Says you, Chief! It was just a spur of the moment thing, and it worked, so laugh it up, Hairboy!” 

“Oh, I’m not laughing, Jim. At least, not at _you_ man! It was awesome! Who knew you could ride like that, man? You weren’t kidding about your privileged background, Jim. And at least Steven’s OK too. It must be great to make up with your brother, man!” 

Jim quirked an eyebrow at that last remark, coloured as it was with a slightly wistful tone. Yeah, it figured that Sandburg probably felt a bit sad, even though as far as Jim was concerned, he wasn’t missing much. The kid had told Jim a while ago that he didn’t know who his father was, although he made light of it at the time. And the strength of his reaction when he found out that Jim had a brother he hadn’t thought to mention before had also struck Jim as somewhat surprising. But in hindsight, it probably wasn’t just the fact that Blair considered that he had withheld important information concerning his study subject, but could also be the barely acknowledged hurt of an only child of a single parent who might have secretly longed for a sibling. Setting that concept aside for now, he nodded thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Chief. But it’s early days yet, though. We’ve only just made the first tentative connection, so don’t get pushing for a full reconciliation just yet.” 

Blair smiled lazily as he thought about Jim’s reply. “I know, man. And I wasn’t really mad at you when you told me about him, Jim. I just wondered if he had any signs of the same genetic variation you have. In case he needed help too, know what I mean?” 

“Yeah, well, he hasn’t!” Jim snipped back, suddenly irked at the notion of his guide working with anyone else even if it was selfish. Blair was _his!_ And where the hell that reaction came from, he didn’t know. 

“Sorry, Chief,” he added contritely. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. Must be more tired than I thought!” 

Smiling back understandingly, Blair answered, “That’s OK, man! I’m pretty pooped myself. It was a good party, after all! But I think I could have done without the cigar, man!” he added with a frown of distaste which made him look impossibly cute. “Everything smells of smoke, and my mouth tastes like an old ash tray. How can Simon smoke those things all the time?” 

“Beats me, kiddo. And yes, you do stink. But so do I and I didn’t even try one. Time for bed, I think.” 

As he grinned down at his partner, Jim took a moment to really study the young man, surprised at his own reactions even though a sneaky inner voice whispered that he really oughtn’t to be. Blair was looking somewhat debauched, his dress shirt open at the neck, and his bow tie hanging loose and draped over his shoulders. Wisps of hair had escaped from the neat ponytail which he had worn to complement the rented tux, which Jim had to admit actually suited him very well. Who’d have guessed that his grunge-and-flannel-loving little guppy could scrub up so well? 

And why did he suddenly have to notice how attractive the sight of his sleepy partner was? Now wasn’t the time to be indulging in his favourite fantasy, and he knew it. Blair was a ladies’ man, through and through. Sure, they might kid around, but as far as Jim was concerned, it was strictly hands off. Blair would be gone soon enough once that damned paper was finished, so he wanted to make the most of the company while he could. No need to scare his roomie off prematurely. 

Pushing himself somewhat unsteadily to his feet, Blair staggered a bit as he tried to maintain his balance. “Whoa! Who turned on the room? It’s moving, Jim!” and he giggled endearingly as Jim wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“Definitely time for little guides to go to bed,” Jim chuckled as Blair leaned happily against him. “Bet you’re going to regret this tomorrow!” 

“Nah, not me!” Blair snickered smugly. “But even if I do, it was worth it! ‘Yippee-ki-ye, motherfucker’! Or should that be ‘Hi ho Silver, away!’” And he fell about laughing at his own dubious humour, while Jim reluctantly joined in. An inebriated Blair was an endearing creature until the following morning, when he would undoubtedly look like the poster boy for misery. _Kid couldn’t hold his liquor worth shit,_ Jim thought wryly. So perhaps it was as well that he didn’t over-indulge too often. But any excuse to hold a warm bundle of Blair in his arms just had to be taken advantage of, so he wasn’t complaining. 

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s go,” and he steered his snickering partner over to his small bedroom under that stairs, where he deposited Blair on the bed. Blair immediately tried to turn over and curl up, so Jim quickly tugged off his suit coat and shoes before tucking him under the covers. 

“Good night, sweet Prince,” he murmured fondly as he closed the door softly behind him. “You’re so going to hate yourself in the morning!” 

And with a gentle smile on his lips, he took himself off to the bathroom and then to bed. The big, cold and lonely bed upstairs. _And that’s enough of that, Ellison!_ Jim scolded himself roundly. _If it was going to happen, it probably would have by now, so suck it up._

And although he had expected a less than restful night, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, to dream of reconciliation with family members long estranged, watched over by the family member of choice. A young, beautiful, curly haired man….  


\------------------------------  


**Following morning:**  


“Oh, man! Shoot me now! Why did you make me have that cigar? And all that beer and champagne…” 

Jim looked up from where he was seated at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. He couldn’t help the wide grin that broke out at the sight that met his eyes, even though he did feel a certain amount of genuine sympathy. Just as he’d expected, Blair looked awful, every bit as bad as Jim had imagined, and undoubtedly felt as bad as he looked. 

“Morning, Sandburg. And what a lovely morning it is! The sun’s shining for once, and it’s the weekend. What’s not to like?” 

“Shut up, man!” growled his pale and shaky roomie, glowering as hard as he could even though the effect was diminished by the real misery in the bleary blue eyes. “I need caffeine, man, and quickly, so if you don’t want to see me break down and bawl like a baby, hand me a mug!” 

“Sure, Chief,” replied Jim with a smile as he got to his feet to retrieve the coffee pot. “But I’m also getting you aspirin and some water too. You need to re-hydrate and you know it!” 

“Yeah, yeah, Mother Hen,” grumbled his partner. “And please no saying ‘I told you so’, OK? I just have to get compos mentis enough to return the tux to the hire shop later today, man. And I hope they won’t charge me extra for sleeping in it!” he added disconsolately. 

“Could have been worse, kiddo,” Jim replied, handing over the requisite drinks and aspirin. “You’d have been even more uncomfortable if you’d slept in the coat too.” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Um, thanks for that, man. It’s like, so embarrassing that you had to put me to bed too. Sorry about that,” and a quick flush of shame coloured his pasty and beard-stubbled cheeks. 

“No problem, Chief. You’d have felt even worse if you’d crashed on the sofa, and I was hoping you’d be well enough for us to go out later. I was thinking of calling Steven to take him up on his offer for lunch.” 

Draining the water and swallowing the meds, Blair took a moment to try and get his muddled thoughts and emotions in some sort of order before replying. “Ah, I don’t think I was invited, man. I mean, I got the feeling that Steven wanted a sibling get-together, you know what I mean? It’s nice of you to think of me, man, but I think Steven would prefer you on your own.” 

Jim regarded him for a second, a frown between his brows. He knew Blair wasn’t blowing him off, but he hadn’t actually considered the invitation from his partner’s point of view. But now he thought about it, Blair was probably correct. Steven had actually only asked Jim, so perhaps it was unfair on both his brother and his partner to expect them to make nice on this occasion. 

“If you say so, Chief. I get what you mean, but I don’t like to think of you here alone. I can always put it off.” 

“Hey, it’s fine, man!” Blair replied with a weak grin. “I’d be lousy company anyway, feeling like this, and I’m sure you and Steven will have lots to talk about. Reminiscing and all that. I’ll be fine, honestly. I’ll take the suit back when I feel better, and I have plenty of work to be getting on with. No need for you to waste the day.” 

“Well, if you’re sure, Chief, I’ll do that. And I’ll treat you to takeout tonight to make up for it, OK? There’s a Jags game on later, so we can kick back and enjoy it together.” 

This time he was rewarded by a real smile, even if it still lacked full Sandburg wattage. “I’d like that, Jim. And by then I should be human again!” and they shared a companionable chuckle, their easy familiarity restored.  


\----------------------------  


Later, at the Marina: 

Jim and Steven stirred their after-dinner coffee in uneasy silence as they waited for the check to arrive. Although the food at Molly’s Seafood Diner had been every bit as good as expected, their actual meal had been something of a strain for both men. Jim supposed that it was too much to hope for that the brothers mend the fences between them at the first opportunity, but it was slightly disappointing nonetheless. The reminiscing that Blair had fondly imagined them engaging in had been awkward to say the least, even though they both tried hard to avoid the most painful instances. Apart from the infamous ‘Cobra’ incident, that was, for which Steven apologised profusely yet again. 

The trouble was that Jim had made it very clear that he wasn’t ready to forgive their father yet, even though it seemed that Steven had. But at least Steven had the decency to admit that for his part, there was less to forgive anyway, so he had let it go and now had a reasonable relationship again with William. Having said that, he had urged Jim to go and see their father once too often and just a little too forcefully, which of course had had the effect of putting Jim’s back up. 

Jim had also belatedly noticed the rather set smile on his brother’s face as he had regaled him with yet another tale about Blair, such that it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Steven had rather diffidently broached the topic of the suitability of his roomie and partner. 

“Ah, Jim,” his brother had begun; right after Jim had finished retelling one of his guide’s funniest anecdotes; “Don’t get me wrong, bro. I mean, from what I saw of Sandburg, he seems like a good enough guy. Interesting too. But I mean, with looks like that, I’d have thought he’d be more suited to working in the Vice department. How come he’s partnered with you? Couldn’t you have someone more, well, conventional?” 

At that, Jim had bridled. “First off, Stevie, Blair isn’t a cop. He’s a grad student working on his PhD, which is why he’s riding with me. And apart from being the smartest man I know, he’s loyal, brave and capable, and the best partner I’ve ever worked with, untrained civilian or not. And I don’t give a shit about his unconventional appearance, see? Since when did I ever care about social niceties anyway? He’s a far better person than the majority of the members of the Country Club, so just leave it, OK?” 

At that, Steven had closed down, and their conversation had devolved to generalities. It was a shame, but Jim secretly admitted to himself that he wouldn’t be in any hurry to repeat the experience. He knew he was probably being hard on his little brother, who was undoubtedly honestly trying to make amends, but what he really wanted was to cut short this painful interlude and get back to the loft and his buddy. He had a sudden need to relax in the comforting atmosphere only Blair could provide, and the sooner he got back home, the better.  


\---------------------------  


While Jim was struggling through his sibling-only lunch, Blair was gradually beginning to feel more human, chuckling to himself in rueful self-deprecation as he stared at the still puny-looking reflection looking back at him in the bathroom mirror. His headache had finally eased from the Anvil Chorus to a steady, muted throb, and at least his tummy had settled enough so he didn’t feel like hurling every time he moved. _Blair, my son, you’ve only got yourself to blame for this! But hell, it was a great party. With the guys in such good spirits, I felt almost like one of the gang!_

If he chose to analyse his feelings, he’d be forced to admit that it was something he’d always wanted, and which had always eluded him until now. He was used to being the perpetual outsider; the observer who could talk the talk but never be accepted into anyone’s inner circle. It was just the way things were, and it made him a good anthropologist after all. A result of the nomadic lifestyle he and Naomi had shared during his youth, and which still influenced his life choices even today to a great extent. But things were changing, and Naomi’s little boy wanted to belong somewhere. With someone special. And on occasions like the award ceremony, and the unexpected action that had accompanied it, he actually felt a hint of what it would be like. 

He smiled as he recalled the warm glow he had felt when he had approached Jim to congratulate him on receiving his award. Jim had casually remarked, “Couldn’t have done it without you, Chief,” and Blair had felt his heart swell with pleasure and pride. For sure, Jim would have been completely unaware of the effect of his words on his young partner, but Blair treasured the moment. 

Certainly Jim could be just as unconsciously cruel on other occasions when he bawled Blair out for some minor transgression, but Blair accepted it as just the way the sentinel was. An honourable man who was doing his best to do his duty to the tribe almost in spite of his gifts, and Blair knew that he would be there for Jim for as long as he was wanted. It was his job to watch the sentinel’s back. To ‘guide’ him, in Lee Brackett’s words, and that was what he would do. 

Feeling much more light-hearted, he pulled his hair back and smirked at his reflection again. Time to take the tux back, and then Jim would be home. 

They would spend the evening together, and what could be better than that? And if a treacherous little voice within whispered that it could be improved on by an invitation to Jim’s bed, he swiftly silenced it and pushed the notion aside. _Don’t spoil what you have together by chasing rainbows, Sandburg! Enjoy what you have, for as long as you can have it._  



	2. Prompt - Character death

**Chapter 2 – Prompt – Character death:**   


Over the next few weeks, life continued as normal for the pair insofar as a series of difficult and dangerous cases and situations constituted a ‘normal’ state of affairs for sentinel and guide. Although both men had problems and tragedies to deal with, the important factor was that their platonic relationship generally retained the status quo, and life at the loft in between often unforeseen incidents was comfortable enough. During that time, Jim temporarily lost his hypersensitivity, only to have Blair talk him into regaining it after Incacha, the Chopec shaman who helped Jim in Peru died so tragically in the loft. He had come to the city as part of a group of tribesmen trying to fight against the destruction of their territory by an oil company, and the trauma of his death, plus that of Blair’s friend Janet hit both men very hard. Unfortunately, the fact that Incacha had passed the ‘Way of the Shaman’ to Blair on his deathbed went largely unnoticed, mainly due to Jim’s dismissal of the incident as irrelevant, thus causing Blair to ignore it despite his initial excitement. And that was something they would both have cause to regret later on. 

Almost inevitably, both men also became involved with women on occasion, not all of whom were the best choices for either of them. Blair’s attempt at helping out the girl who moved in next door turned into a potential disaster when the would-be White Knight found himself reduced to victim by her and her criminal acquaintances. The possibility of actually serving jail time was only avoided because Iris was more concerned with taking her fellow perps down with her rather than seeking vengeance against Blair. 

As for Jim, when he went undercover with a notorious family of mobsters, he found himself literally in bed with Vincent Lazar’s supposed widow, Michelle, only to find that the ‘widow’ wasn’t actually any such thing. To be sure, they also had a few dates that didn’t involve either victims or criminals, but none lasted for any length of time before the pair returned to their familiar and determinedly bachelor-style routines. 

Perhaps one of the most trying situations was when Jim went undercover again, this time in Starkville prison, and on concluding that harrowing case was more than happy to receive Blair’s unconditional support and comfort even though he might not have showed it at the time. 

During this period he did meet up a few more times with Steven, mostly at Blair’s urging, although the tentative reconciliation wasn’t really going anywhere. The only time Steven visited the loft, he was plainly uncomfortable with Blair’s presence there, and although the obliging young man made himself scarce so that the siblings could have time alone, Jim was less than happy with his younger brother’s attitude, and said as much. In effect, he confessed to Blair that the relationship was going nowhere, and that he believed they had both changed too much to make it work. He was happier interacting with his friends and colleagues, and particularly with Blair, so didn’t really concern himself overmuch at the missed opportunity to re-forge family ties. 

It was at that point when circumstances arose to force a meeting with his estranged father after all, which was to set in motion a series of ultimately disastrous events.  


\------------------------------------  


**Simon Banks’ office:**  


Perching a hip on the corner of Simon’s desk, Blair studied his partner intently, a concerned frown creasing his brow. “So, your Dad admitted that he knew there was something different – something special about you - which is why he told you not to insist that you saw Heydash’s killer, right? So you really did have the senses as a child after all, and just repressed them and all the memories attached to them until Peru. Or now, in the case of the Country Club Strangler. 

“Man, that’s both amazing, and very sad. I’m so sorry, Jim.” 

Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Jim shrugged in a vain effort to appear nonchalant. “No big deal, Chief, I guess. At least from his point of view. He says he just wanted to protect me, and I guess it worked up to a point, much to his relief. Wouldn’t want to have to admit to his Country Club buddies that his kid was a freak, huh?” he added bitterly. 

“Man, that’s harsh! You don’t mean that. Do you?” Blair’s indignation and dismay was all on Jim’s behalf, and he just couldn’t help himself. For someone who’d never known a father, it seemed incomprehensible to him that Jim’s Dad could have been so self-centred. For all her flightiness, Naomi had always been there for him, and loved him to the best of her ability, and he knew it. But maybe Jim had a right to be judgemental? 

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jim turned to face Blair as Simon looked on, a perplexed frown on his face. “Why not, Chief? OK, he had albums and photos of me, and he obviously followed my career, but why is it only now that he feels able to tell me to my face that he knew about my ability all along? Once this case is done with, I can’t see any reason why things should change between us.” 

“Be that as it may, Jim,” Simon interjected, “Let’s get to work on catching this killer first. Don’t get me wrong, my friend. I do care about your familial problems, but as long as this creep Aaron Foster is out there, personal feelings have to take a back seat.” 

“You don’t have to tell me, sir,” Jim replied firmly. “I’ve lived without him and his influence long enough to know that it wouldn’t bother me if we never met again after this.” 

But whereas Simon nodded his acceptance of Jim’s declaration, Blair wasn’t so sure. He was convinced that family meant more to Jim than his friend was prepared to admit. Or if it didn’t, then it should do, and Blair secretly determined to help Jim reconcile with both brother and father if possible, for all their sakes. 

As it turned out, when Foster went after William and Jim was able to save his father, Blair was convinced that there was potential for a real father-son reconciliation after all. Jim seemed to be much mellower towards the older Ellison, so Blair encouraged him to take that final step. Little did he suspect that his good intentions were going to backfire, and mostly to his detriment.  


\------------------------------  


**Some weeks later:**  


Jim stalked into the loft, scowling darkly and slamming the door violently behind him. He had just returned from a lunch date with his brother and father, and he knew for certain that it would be the last he would ever spend in their company. With encouragement from Blair, he had made an attempt to meet them half-way, intending to do his best to accept them as they were in order to reignite some sort of mutual family feeling. However, today he had finally realised that they had no intention of reciprocating, and their efforts to make him see what they deemed to be the errors of his ways had infuriated him to the point of determining never to see either of them willingly again. Despite Blair’s best efforts and unstinting friendliness towards Steven and William, both men had made it clear today that they disapproved of Jim’s choice of partner. Not only was he unconventional and hyperactive, but he was also a fatherless nobody who had way too much influence on Jim, and he could only end up by having a detrimental effect on Jim’s career. They had also asserted that, whether or not there was actually anything between Jim and Blair, the fact that outsiders might believe so could do Jim’s reputation nothing but harm, and he would be wise to get rid of his roommate as soon as possible. He had been living off Jim’s goodwill for far too long already, and as a mere grad student, should have finished his dissertation and been long gone by now. 

Part of the problem was that although William, and now Steven, knew the truth about Jim’s senses, they didn’t understand Blair’s role in helping him control and use them, and he wasn’t about to explain it to them even if they cared to listen. If they hadn’t got the decency to treat Blair with the respect he deserved, then to hell with them both. He’d done with them and their narrow-minded bigotry for good. 

Throwing his keys into the basket and hanging up his jacket, he turned to face the unwitting object of his family’s discord, who was regarding him from his seat on the sofa, a troubled expression on his attractive face. 

Dressed in his oldest and most comfortable sweats, Blair’s hair was pulled back in an untidy ponytail with his spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he peered over the top of them to study Jim. The coffee table was littered with a clutter of blue books and papers, and he had plainly been in the midst of working when Jim returned unexpectedly early. The familiar sight was instantly comforting, and Jim felt his anger dispersing as he breathed in his friend’s attractive scent. 

“Jim, man, you OK? I thought you’d be much later than this. Is everything all right with you guys?” 

Jim shook his head in fond exasperation. How typical of Blair to think immediately of Jim and his welfare above anything else, including his own. What he had done to deserve such devotion he didn’t know, but right now it was of great comfort to him. 

Forcing a pained grin, Jim shook his head. “Nah, Chief. ‘Fraid not. But don’t worry, ‘cause I’m not! It was never going to be easy, and now I realise that it’s not going to happen at all. We just can’t connect. Too late, too set in our ways, I guess. So. What would you like to do this evening, Chief?” 

Blair unwound himself from his half-lotus on the sofa and approached his partner, nothing but care and sympathy in his open expression. “We could always watch the latest episode of ‘Stargate’. That usually works to help you relax. And I can easily whip up a stir fry. Would that work for you?” 

The genuine concern in Blair’s expression and tone warmed Jim’s heart, and he wondered once again why he hadn’t put the moves on his best friend yet. But perhaps that was it. Blair _was_ the best friend he’d ever had, and Jim still didn’t want to risk driving him away, even if sentinel senses sometimes hinted that Blair wouldn’t be as averse to the notion as he feared. So he simply grinned and replied, “Sounds good to me, Chief. Just what I need. 

“Tell you what. I think I’ll just pop out to the video hire shop. See if they’ve got the new Star Wars tape you wanted to see. We can make a proper movie night of it, want to?” 

Blair’s wide grin was all the answer he needed, so with a nod and thumbs up, he grabbed his keys again and headed out, this time in a far happier state of mind than when he had arrived. 

Shortly after, having successfully rented out the new tape and looking forward to a cosy night in with his best friend, Jim announced that he was going to have a shower and change into something more comfortable. Busy in the kitchen chopping vegetables for the stir fry, Blair smiled as he replied, “Sure thing, Jim. Take your time and relax. Dinner à la Sandburg will be done as soon as Monsieur requires!” 

Standing under the hot water, feeling the remnants of the day’s tension easing out of his body and mind, Jim vaguely registered the ringing of the phone, but paid it no mind. If it was for Blair, then he had no right to listen in anyway, and if it was his father or his brother, then he didn’t want to know. 

He should have known that his complacency was ill-fated, but such was life. 

Exiting the bathroom, he immediately realised that something was very wrong. Blair was standing at the kitchen table, staring at the cordless phone in his hand as if it was poisonous. 

“What is it, kiddo?” Jim murmured, all his instincts on high alert. “What’s wrong? Is it Naomi?” 

Blair swallowed hard and met his concerned gaze, wide blue eyes tragic as he worked up the courage to deliver his message. 

“Uh, no Jim. Not Naomi. Uh…that was Steven, man. It’s your father. He had a heart attack when he got home from the restaurant. I’m so sorry, Jim. But he’s dead!”  



	3. Prompt - Grateful for...

**Chapter 3: Prompt – Grateful for…**   


To say that Jim was stunned at the news would be an understatement. He felt as if he had taken a blow to the solar plexus, and sagged back against the back of the sofa, vaguely noting Blair’s swift approach, his intention to support and comfort his traumatised partner clear. 

“Oh, man, Jim, take it easy. Here, let me,” and he eased an arm around Jim’s waist, his surprising strength preventing Jim from collapsing to the floor. Even so, he wouldn’t have been able to support his bigger friend’s weight for long, so he urged Jim around the side of the sofa and guided him down into the soft cushions where Jim sat immobile, his face white with shock, and his eyes bleak. 

“Can I get you something, Jim? Anything?” Blair’s voice was quiet but insistent, his concern for Jim uppermost in his mind as he studied the sentinel intently, afraid that his friend might zone in his distress. Kneeling before his friend, he took the cold hands in his own, chafing them gently as he tried to attract Jim’s attention, worried about the lost, distant expression in the cornflower blue eyes. 

“Come on, man. Come back to me, Jim. Please don’t zone, man. Not now!” he pleaded, his anxiety growing by the minute. He had never seen Jim react like this before, even when Danny Choi and Incacha died in his arms. Then his friend had cried out in his anguish, but he hadn’t shut down like this. He was just about to try gently slapping the silent man’s face when suddenly Jim shook himself, his attention focussed and present once again. 

“It’s OK, Chief. You don’t have to worry,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It was just the shock is all. I’m fine, OK?” 

“Somehow I don’t believe that, man,” Blair replied quietly, a frown creasing his brow. “It’s OK to let go, Jim. Don’t hold everything in. This isn’t something you ought to be repressing, man. He’s your Dad!” 

And suddenly Jim snapped. Virtually shoving his friend away, he jumped to his feet, snarling, “Just butt out, Sandburg! You have no idea how I’m feeling, because you have no idea of what it’s like to have a father! Don’t tell me what I ought or ought not to be repressing, OK? I’m going out. I’m going to see my father, and Steven. He’ll need me.” 

He was too incensed to see the hurt on Blair’s face at the verbal slap, not even considering how low a blow he had just dealt the one person who was always there for him. Right now, he didn’t know how he was ever going to cope with the burden of guilt he felt. His father had died after their volatile lunch date, so maybe it was his fault. 

Striding over to the door, he pushed his feet into the pair of loafers he saw there, and, grabbing coat and keys, he slammed out of the loft again, leaving a white-faced and shaking guide behind him. 

As he drove, he punched in Steven’s number, needing to find out where his father had been taken. Steven picked up at the first ring, his voice choking and broken as he told Jim that William had been transported to Cascade General Hospital. He was plainly too upset to say more, so Jim simply replied that he would be arriving in a few minutes and hung up, concentrating intently on his driving rather than letting his mind wander. Time enough for contemplation once he had arrived safely at the hospital and seen his father for himself.  


\-------------------------------  


Back at the loft, a shaken Blair cleared away the makings of the aborted stir fry, after which he took a beer from the refrigerator and popped the top. Sinking down onto the sofa Jim had so recently vacated, he tucked his feet under him and took a long swig of the cold brew. His mind felt fuzzy – clogged with the myriad thoughts and emotions swirling around in it – and he realised that he must be in some sort of shock also. He had never had Jim react so angrily towards him before, even during their not infrequent spats either domestic or work-related. This time Jim had been deliberately cruel, and his words cut Blair to the quick. But he told himself that it wasn’t about him, so he should suck it up and stop feeling sorry for himself. It was Jim who deserved his sympathy and understanding right now, and that’s what he would do. After all, Jim was right in one respect, and that was that Blair had never lost a close relative before. Good friends, yes, like Sweet Roy and Janet Myers, but not a parent, thank the goddess. So he needed to cut Jim some slack, and be there for him. It was all he could do.  


\---------------------------------  


Turning into Cascade General Hospital’s parking lot, Jim pulled into the first available spot and hurried over to the main building. Arriving at the ER, he strode purposefully over to the reception desk and asked the harried nurse on duty where his father had been taken. To her credit, she exhibited genuine sympathy for the tall, handsome but plainly distressed man and answered him gently; informing him that William Ellison had been laid out in a side room. Pointing him in the right direction, she expressed her sorrow for his loss, and told him that she would advise the duty doctor that he was here. She also advised him that Steven could probably be found in the hospital chapel, so thanking her politely, Jim turned away, intending to see his brother first before viewing his father. After all, a snide little inner voice murmured, William wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. 

A few minutes later Jim entered the peaceful, non-denominational chapel, immediately spotting his brother, who sat there alone, hunched in a chair, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking, and the tang of saline told Jim that Steven was crying. It was the sight of his weeping brother that brought a sheen of unwanted moisture to his own eyes, and he briefly – and cynically – realised that the sight of his sibling’s distress hurt far more than the news that their father was dead. 

Blinking back the unshed tears, he quietly approached and laid a comforting hand on Steven’s shoulder. 

“Are you OK, Stevie?” he murmured, even though it was obvious that Steven plainly wasn’t. But he could think of nothing else to say, ruefully acknowledging that the distance between them now made it seem as if they were more like strangers. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” he continued awkwardly. “I mean, he seemed fine when I left you. Just angry, but no worse than I’ve seen him before.” 

Steven looked up into his eyes, and Jim was taken aback at the fury that flashed within the red-rimmed orbs, which even the puffiness of prolonged weeping couldn’t diminish. 

“Not here!” his brother hissed. “This isn’t the place to discuss what happened. I’ll go with you to see Dad, and then we can talk.” 

Pushing himself to his feet, he held himself rigidly as he stalked out of the chapel, knowing that Jim was following him. The bothers didn’t exchange a single word on the short walk to the side room where William lay, and when they arrived, Steven entered first, the tension in his back obvious to Jim as he tried to hold on to his control. 

And then Jim forgot his brother as he gazed at the still figure laid out on the bed before him, once again struck by the depths of his own emotions as he studied his father’s peaceful face. Even in death William had the ability to hurt, as long-repressed memories of past anger and harsh words and punishments surged back into Jim’s mind. His father might well have told Jim that he had always loved him, and that he had believed that he was doing the best he could for both his boys, but at the time Jim hadn’t felt ready and able to tell him that he forgave him, and now he never could. Not only that, but their last words had been spoken in anger, and for that Jim knew he would never forgive himself either, and his guilt knew no bounds. 

Just then, a gentle tap on the door announced the arrival of the duty doctor who had tried to resuscitate William. “I’m sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I believe you wanted to see me?” 

Turning to offer the young man somewhat strained smiles, the brothers nodded their assent. “Dr Atkins,” murmured Jim, quickly reading the man’s ID badge. “I’m Detective Jim Ellison. I know you’ve already spoken to my brother Steven, but I’d appreciate your opinion on what happened to our father.” 

Dr Atkins nodded understandingly. “Certainly I’ll tell you what I can, Detective Ellison, but you’ll no doubt realise that we will need to conduct an autopsy in order to get the full story?” 

When Jim nodded grimly, he continued. “Well, as I told your brother, when you father was brought in here, the paramedics had already been working on him for some time. It would appear that he had suffered a massive heart attack, and I understand he stopped breathing almost immediately?” 

“That’s right, Doctor,” Steven murmured in confirmation. “I tried CPR immediately, and the paramedics carried on as soon as they arrived, but they told me it was no good. They said they would keep trying during the trip here; wouldn’t give up; but they couldn’t get his heart started again.” 

Dr Atkins confirmed what he said, adding, “You did everything right, Mr Ellison. You cannot blame yourself for your father’s death. I fully expect the autopsy to reveal a massive amount of damage – too much to expect your father to have survived it. If it is of any consolation to you both, it would have been very quick. He probably didn’t even know you were trying to revive him.” 

“Thanks, Dr Atkins,” replied Jim, trying to sound sincere. “That does help. I’m sure you’re right and the autopsy will confirm your diagnosis. We won’t keep you any longer.” 

Offering them both a sad smile, Dr Atkins withdrew, leaving the brothers alone to contemplate his words. 

However, mere minutes later, Steven turned from gazing at his father’s body, and marched over to Jim, getting right up in his older brother’s face. 

“So now you know, _Bro!”_ he hissed. “That’s what you drove him to! When you walked out on us, he was furious. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him before. As soon as we left the restaurant to drive home, he started on about you and that…that hippy _nobody!_ He said that he wouldn’t be in the least surprised if Sandburg had taken advantage of your ‘gift’ to seduce you when you were at your most vulnerable. Squeeze everything he can out of you just because you think you need him! He couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself be taken in like that. Allow yourself to be made a laughing stock by polite society and no doubt your precious Police Department too! And not only that, but by falling for that boy’s wiles, you’ve dragged the Ellison family name and reputation down with you! 

“As soon as we got back to his house, he stormed off into the den, shouting for Sally to bring him a drink. And that’s when it happened. One moment he was staring at me, as if about to say something to me, then the next he clutched his chest and it was all over. Just like that. 

“And it was _**your fault!”**_ he ended in a near shout, shaking Jim by the front of his sweater. 

At first too shocked to retaliate, Jim stared aghast at his brother’s white, furious face, but then he grabbed Steven’s hands and broke his brother’s grip on his clothing. 

“That’s enough, Steven! This isn’t the place, and you know it! Even if what you say is true, it won’t bring him back, so back off! I don’t want to hurt you, so just back off!” 

Steven glared at him for a moment longer, then with a sneer of pure contempt, he pulled away and stormed out of the room, leaving a desperately shaken Jim alone with William’s corpse. And damned if Jim didn’t convince himself that he glimpsed a satisfied smirk on the peaceful face, as if his father had had the last word after all.  


\----------------------------------  


**Several days later, Cascade Cemetery of the Holy Sepulchre:**  


The stiff and stoic man who stood at his father’s graveside wasn’t anyone Blair recognised, although perhaps he might have done had he seen his friend just after the helicopter crash in Peru. Jim had shut down, rebuffing any and all attempts to comfort and commiserate with him, and most painfully, those from Blair himself. Over the days since his father’s unexpected demise, Jim had become so rigidly introverted – so fiercely self-reliant – that all his friends and colleagues feared for him. And because they feared for him, they feared for his devoted partner too. 

Although Jim and Steven stood side by side; to an informed observer it would appear that there was an invisible wall between them. Neither sibling acknowledged each other except when necessary, even though Steven was visibly more moved by the service and burial than was his older brother. Those who thought they knew the reason behind the behaviour would have been sadly mistaken, as they assumed it was because of the deceased’s Will. When it was read it was revealed that William had recently changed it to say that, unless or until Jim sent Blair Sandburg on his way, he wouldn’t receive a penny from the Ellison estate, and that everything had been left to Steven. 

However, to those few who knew better, it came as no surprise, and even less of a surprise to learn that Jim couldn’t have cared less. He had never wanted anything from his father or his father’s company; happy to receive the small legacy his mother had left him which his father couldn’t do anything about. The brothers’ estrangement had nothing to do with inheritance at all, but everything to do with blame and the accompanying guilt factor. 

Standing to one side with a small contingent from Major Crimes, Simon looked down at the small, despondent figure at his side, a worried expression on his face. 

“Shouldn’t you be there with Jim, Sandburg? He looks like he could do with some moral support.” 

Looking up to meet the big captain’s vaguely accusatory gaze, Blair wanted to obfuscate, but knew that for once he had to tell Simon the simple truth. “He doesn’t want me there, Simon. He told me as much when we arrived. In fact, he said that he couldn’t understand why I’d want to come anyway! How could he say that, man? He knows I’ll always be there for him! But now it’s as if he doesn’t want me around at all! I just don’t know what to do.” 

It was the truth, because over the last few days, Blair had tried everything he could think of to get through to the grieving sentinel. He had lovingly cooked tempting meals, only to have Jim declare that he wasn’t hungry. He had tried conversation, he had tried silence. He had railed and cajoled, and had tried pleading, all to no avail. Jim was locked into his own little world of self-recrimination, and had made it quite clear that Blair was one of the reasons why. Hell, if they’d been sleeping together, Blair might even have tried the old ‘withholding sex’ routine, but as it was, he was almost at the end of his tether. Short of actually physically kicking him out, Jim was making it abundantly clear that he would prefer to have his space back. Space in which he could indulge in his orgy of self-pity and anger to his heart’s content. Which left his devoted guide somewhere between a rock and a hard place, and no idea where to go from here. 

Frowning in real concern now, Simon placed a warm hand on Blair’s shoulder. “Try not to worry, kid. Jim’s a prickly customer for sure, but I’m certain he’ll eventually realise that he’s being an unreasonable asshole. Whatever he says, _I_ want you with him when he comes back to work. I like my best team working together, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you stay on board. 

“And I can’t believe I just said that!” he added wryly, which at least had the effect of bringing a small, sad smile to Sandburg’s face.  


\---------------------------------  


**Following day, Simon Banks’ office:**  


An exasperated Jim looked up at his captain from his seat in front of Simon’s desk, a grim frown of displeasure on his patrician face. “I told you, I’m fine, sir! I want to get back to work, and I need to get busy. As far as I’m concerned, everything’s done and dusted, and I want to get back to normal now.” 

“Why don’t I believe that, Jim?” Simon replied, his speculative gaze fixed on Jim’s tense and angry stare. “Look, man, we all grieve in our own way, but you’re so brittle you could snap at any moment! Your friends are worried about you, man! Especially Blair. Why can’t you let us help?” 

“To do what, sir?” Jim snapped harshly. “To make me feel better about myself? Not going to happen, and I resent the hell out of you telling me what I need. And as for Sandburg, as far as I’m concerned he’s as much to blame as anyone. When I said I wanted to get back to work, I meant as I was before, Simon. Before all this crazy senses rubbish. I was a good cop before, and I can be again. I don’t need him, and the sooner he gets the message, the better!” 

“Now I _know_ there’s something wrong with you, Jim!” Simon growled. “That’s harsh, coming from someone who’s had the benefit of that boy’s devoted attention for several years now. You know as well as I do that you owe him your sanity, man. Just how is this whole mess his fault?” 

“With all due respect, sir, it’s none of your business. Suffice it to say that I don’t want or need him as a partner or anything else, OK?” 

“I can’t believe you said that!” Simon replied, his tone genuinely shocked. 

“Believe it, Simon!” Jim answered, his tone brooking no argument. “I told him this morning to find himself another place to stay. As far as I’m concerned, his ride’s over. He can finish his damned paper without me!” 

There was nothing else to say, so with a heavy heart, Simon dismissed his detective to go and get on with his outstanding paperwork. But he determined to go and seek out Blair at the first opportunity. He felt an almost parental concern for the young man, and knew that he’d do what he could to make sure the kid was OK. 

Out in the bullpen, as soon as word got around about Blair’s fate, there was a noticeable cooling in Jim’s colleagues’ attitude towards him, not that he cared. Or at least, that was what he told himself. He needed nothing more than to immerse himself in his job. Finer feelings were for others, not for him. They hurt too much and made him weak, and he wasn’t having that, so he hardened his heart and determined to do his job, and nothing else.  


\--------------------------------  


**Earlier that morning:**  


“I told you, Sandburg, I don’t want breakfast! When are you going to get it through your over-intelligent but thick skull that I don’t need your fussing? I’m sick of your perpetual hovering. In fact, I’m sick of you! If it wasn’t for you, Dad wouldn’t have gotten so angry he literally died from it! It’s over, Chief. I want you gone by the time I get home tonight. Go and find someone else to sponge off of!” 

Even he was shocked at the cruelty of his last unwarranted remark, but he wasn’t about to apologise. The stricken expression on Blair’s face hit him where it hurt, and he needed to get out of the loft as quickly as possible before he changed his mind. The kid would be better off without him anyway, he told himself. He could go back to his academic merry-go-round and stay safe. It was for the best. And with that thought, he stormed out of the loft, knowing that when he returned, his space would belong to him again, and only him. 

Stunned speechless, Blair watched Jim’s departing back, the slamming of the loft door making him jump at the finality of it. It was true, then. He really had worn out his welcome after all this time, and Jim didn’t want him around any longer. Shakily, he flopped down on the nearest chair and rubbed his hands over a face that was suspiciously wet. He should have known, should have realised that Jim was no different from all the others he had roomed with in the past, and he should have gone before his friend had had to throw him out. And he really should give Jim kudos for having put up with him for so long. It was definitely a record, and it was his own fault that he’d begun to think of the loft as his first real home. Naomi would cluck in disapproval if she knew, and would undoubtedly lecture him on the futility of trying to hold on to people or possessions, for that way lay disappointment. 

He should have listened to her, and not forgotten her words of wisdom. 

But it still hurt that Jim should hold him responsible for William’s death. All he’d done was encourage Jim to reconcile with his family. He simply didn’t understand what he’d done that was so heinous that it had caused William’s heart attack. He’d only ever wanted to help. 

But it was what it was, and he had been given his marching orders. So much for believing that their relationship might have progressed to a higher level. He really should have known better, and it was his own fault that he was too naïve to see the writing on the wall. He supposed that he should feel resentful, after all he’d tried to do for Jim the man and the sentinel, but instead he just felt empty. Hollow and worthless. He couldn’t even think about the fate of his dissertation now. Like Jim said, it was over, and he needed to get on with his life. 

But first things first, he needed to get out of Jim’s space. So with a breaking heart, he pushed himself wearily to his feet to begin the task of packing up his meagre possessions, glad for once that he didn’t have too much so the job shouldn’t take him very long.  


\-----------------------------------  


Later that afternoon, Blair sat at his desk in his cluttered storeroom-cum-office in Hargrove Hall, staring unseeingly at the blue book he was supposed to be marking. He had finished packing up his stuff and had brought a few of the boxes with him to Rainier, intending to spend the night in his office since it was too late to find anywhere else at such short notice. The others he had had to leave in his small room – correction, Jim’s small room – under the stairs until he could arrange to either collect them or get them sent on once he had found a place to stay. He could but hope that Jim wouldn’t just throw them out in anger, but didn’t really believe that the man could be quite so heartless. Jim was hurting, which was why he was behaving like this, and it was wrong of Blair to lay any blame on him. 

However, even as Blair continued to try and justify Jim’s behaviour towards him, he knew that his heart was broken like it had never been before, even after Maya’s departure. If this was love, it was truly painful, and he had been right to run away from it in the past. But now it was too late. He realised that he loved Jim in every way with all his heart and soul, when it was too late to do anything about it. He wished briefly that he could close himself off like Jim apparently could, but it wasn’t happening, so he’d just have to try and find some way of getting on with life without Jim. 

And for the life of him, he couldn’t yet envisage such an existence. How sad was that? 

Suddenly, a knock on the door jerked him out of his morbid reverie, and he quickly brushed away the unwanted wetness on his cheeks. “Come in!” he called out, hoping that it wasn’t some struggling student needing his or her hand held because right now he didn’t feel up to the task. He was more than surprised when the door opened to reveal Simon, whose expression was one of care and concern. 

“Uh, come in, Simon. Um, take a seat. How can I help you, man? Or is it Jim?” he added worriedly, instantly concerned for his sentinel. 

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Simon folded his tall figure onto the only chair that wasn’t piled high with books and papers. _How typical of the kid,_ he thought. _Always assumes that he is only required when someone needs something from him. We really should all work on curing his woeful lack of self-esteem._

“No, Sandburg – Blair. It’s you I’ve come to see. Jim told me what he’d done, and I needed to see for myself that you were OK. I’m truly sorry, kid. I know Jim can be a hard-ass on occasion, but I’ve never seen him like this before, even when he first joined my unit. I’m hoping that eventually he’ll come to his senses – no pun intended – and will apologise to you. Meanwhile, I’d like to offer you my spare room. I don’t want to see you in some decrepit hole like that warehouse you were in before you moved into the loft, so you can stay with me until you either fix things between you and Jim, or you find somewhere better to go. OK? I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I consider you to be one of my own even if you’ve never been official, and I care about each and every one of my team!” 

“Uh, I don’t know what to say, man!” a genuinely shocked Blair finally managed to stutter. “That’s over and above, sir, truly. I…I mean, if it’s really OK with you, that’d be great, and I promise it won’t be for any longer than I can help. Thank you so much!” 

Uncomfortable with the kid’s emotional response, Simon growled, “Good, then. So, I’ll see you tonight!” and with that he rose to his feet and saw himself out, leaving a stunned but truly grateful Blair behind him.  



	4. Prompt - Epiphany

**Chapter 4: Epiphany:**  


**That night, the loft:**  


Jim pushed the door closed behind him and looked around at his pristine apartment. It was as clean and tidy – and sterile-looking – as it had been pre-Sandburg. And suddenly he hated it. He had been so sure that he was doing the right thing by turning his guide out. He had convinced himself that, without Blair, he could repress the senses again and go back to normal. After all, as far as he was concerned, they had been nothing but trouble, and he had been certain that life without them was what he really wanted. It was too late to bring his father back, but perhaps he could eventually learn to live with the guilt by immersing himself in the life and career of an ordinary cop. 

But apparently not. As he had sifted through the piles of paperwork on his desk with ill-grace, he hadn’t been able to prevent his mind from wandering whether he liked it or not. He recalled flashes of cases where he had been successful in retrieving crucial evidence or taking down perps by utilising his senses, always, it seemed to him, accompanied by his loyal guide. A guide who had worked incessantly and unselfishly to help him even under the direst of circumstances, and whose unfeigned pride in Jim’s performance had never failed to warm his heart even though the blatant hero-worship frequently made him uncomfortable. It was just the way Blair was. And now Jim had hurt him, probably beyond what was forgivable. And all his colleagues seemed to know it, and blamed him for being a hard-assed and self-centred hypocrite. 

And perhaps they were right. But it was too late now. What was done was done, and he had no right – or inclination, truth be told – to seek out wherever Blair had retreated to, cap in hand and begging for the young man’s forgiveness. Because Blair would undoubtedly forgive him. Of that he was certain. He was still the most generous and big-hearted man Jim had ever met. But it was hardly fair, after all Jim had put him through. And Jim’s own pride wouldn’t allow him to admit openly that he had been so wrong. He had been a loner before, and he would be again. End of story. 

But when he settled down that evening; beer in hand and half-eaten Wonderburger rewrapped and put in the refrigerator because his appetite had disappeared; he found that the Jags game he had been looking forward to had lost its appeal, and when he turned off the TV in disgust, the silence was deafening.  


\---------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, in Simon’s apartment:**  


“Damn, kid, you can really cook, can’t you? That was a real treat, son. A home-cooked meal after a long day’s work!” Simon’s wide grin as he pushed aside his empty plate went a long way towards raising Blair’s spirits, and he blushed engagingly at the praise. 

“Thanks, man. It was a pleasure, really. I like cooking, and it’s the least I can do after your generosity to me. I’ve slept in my office before on occasion, and I have to say it’s not particularly comfortable!” 

“Or particularly safe either, I dare say,” added Simon acerbically. “You need to be more careful of your own safety, kid. Although I appreciate everything you’ve done for Jim and Major Crimes over the years, you’ve given me more than a few grey hairs too!” 

Blair ducked his head for a moment, chuckling ruefully as he replied, “That’s what Jim says, man…” only to tail off abruptly, embarrassed at his sudden urge to cry. He had to try and get out of the habit of always seeing things in terms of his life with his sentinel. He was alone now, and needed to get it through his thick skull that it was over. 

But damn, it hurt so very much. 

Recognising his temporary guest’s pain, Simon rose to his feet and picked up their plates to take them back to the kitchen. “It’s OK, Sandburg. For what it’s worth, I think Jim’s being a total asshole and a fool to himself. But maybe he’ll see reason after all once he gets over this guilt thing he has going about his father’s death. And then it’ll be up to you whether or not you trust him again. 

“But meanwhile, why don’t you try and get a decent night’s sleep? My old Ma always used to say that things always look better in the morning, and she was no fool!” 

Looking up into Simon’s warm brown eyes, Blair offered a small sad smile. “Thanks, Simon. For everything. Even if Jim never forgives me, it means a lot that you don’t think the worst of me.” 

“In my opinion, it’s Jim that needs _your_ forgiveness, kid, and don’t you forget it!” and with a decisive nod, Simon carried the plates to the kitchen, leaving an astounded Blair to think about what he had said. Even if it wasn’t true, it was heart-warming to think that he still had friends who cared about him, so perhaps there was a chance that he could survive this after all.  


\-----------------------------  


In the loft’s big bedroom, Jim tossed and turned, the sleep he so desperately craved eluding him as his brain refused to shut down. He replayed over and over again the last time he saw his father alive, guilt eating at him as he recalled each and every harsh word exchanged. But then the scene would inevitably change to the last time he had spoken to his guide, and the guilt was even stronger. He pictured Blair’s devastated expression as he was kicked out of the only place he had ever called home; dismissed like a lackey surplus to requirements when he had done nothing wrong. All he had ever done had been for Jim’s sake, and that included his efforts to try and improve relationships between the Ellisons, honestly believing that family ties benefit us all. And looking at it from his friend’s point of view, Jim reluctantly realised that such notions were understandable. With no one but Naomi to call close family, Blair’s nomadic childhood had been full of passing acquaintances but no real firm friends. Not only that, but the seemingly endless string of would-be ‘Dads’ and ‘Uncles’ must have been unsettling for such a bright and inquisitive child. And with Naomi constantly on the move, even after Blair had put down roots at Rainier, it was hardly a stable relationship either. It suddenly occurred to Jim that all his guide had ever needed was to be loved and wanted for himself, and not just for what he could do for others. And Jim had certainly let him down there. 

Punching his pillow angrily into shape, he settled down again, deeply disturbed by his reluctant and unwanted revelations, and finally dropped off to sleep. To wake up in a blue tinted jungle he had visited before, but never willingly. 

Gazing around him in mild consternation, Jim realised that he was dressed once again in vest, combat pants and bandana, his compound bow slung over his shoulder. It seemed like standard wear for the spirit world, although it could be worse. He could be in his panther form, which was way more disconcerting. He sighed in resignation, knowing that he would have been called here for a reason, and that reason was probably to receive a severe scolding for his behaviour towards his guide. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

Sure enough, across the clearing from where he was standing, the beloved and much-missed figure of Incacha appeared, fondness warring with irritation on the deceased shaman’s face. 

“It’s good to see you, old friend,” Jim began, moving forward to offer his first guide a hug. “I’ve missed you, my shaman.” 

“I have missed you also, Enqueri,” replied the spirit Incacha gently, returning the hug and then putting Jim away from him to fix his gaze on the questioning blue eyes. “But I am not your shaman now, any more than I was your true guide. You know this, Enqueri, so why have you treated the young wolf so badly?” 

Bridling indignantly, Jim huffed, “What do you mean, Incacha? I know you said I would find my true guide in the Great City, but surely you weren’t serious about Blair being my shaman also? He knows nothing! Only what he’s read in books. How can he possibly be a real shaman guide?” 

Shaking Jim firmly by the upper arms, Incacha growled angrily, “Have you learned nothing, Enqueri? Did I not pass the Way of the Shaman to your guide on my death-bed? Do you think so little of him – of _me_ – that you would ignore this? The young wolf is untried, certainly, but he has the potential to be a greater shaman than I. But he needs the support of a bonded sentinel to fulfil his destiny, as do you. Neither of you will be happy or accomplished alone. It is up to you to seek out your guide, Enqueri, and to make him your own once and for all!” 

Before Jim could come up with a sensible reply, Incacha stepped away, and with an inscrutable smile, waved his hand towards the far side of the clearing. Jim looked over to see his panther – a very pissed-off looking panther – prowling backwards and forwards, glaring at him with glowing eyes. And as Incacha indicated the opposite side, Jim beheld a beautiful silver wolf. A wolf with Blair’s blue eyes. Eyes which looked into his with deep sadness and silent accusation. 

Even as he turned back to his old friend to ask for an explanation, Incacha faded from sight, and the two spirit animals began to run towards each other, faster and faster until they leapt into the air as one and merged in a flash of light. 

And finally Jim understood. And woke up in his own bed, knowing what he had to do.  


\------------------------------------  


That same night, Blair was also tossing and turning in Simon’s spare bed, grateful for sure for the comfort it offered, but still unable to sleep. He was being slowly consumed by a gnawing anxiety that all was not well with Jim, and despite the fact Jim had basically thrown him out, he still couldn’t help but feel responsible for the sentinel’s welfare. He recalled telling Jim about the whole ‘Blessed Protector’ concept, and it occurred to him that it seemed to cut both ways. The companion, or ‘guide’ as he was becoming accustomed to calling his role, was apparently just as protective of his or her sentinel. So even if Jim had turned him away, Blair couldn’t automatically turn off his care and concern for Jim. And on that thought, he finally drifted off into an uneasy doze. 

For Blair, waking up in the blue jungle was a real surprise, never having seen it before, and he immediately wondered if this was the same place that Jim visited. He couldn’t know for sure, because Jim was always extremely reluctant to discuss his visions, apparently desperately uncomfortable with the whole concept of the spiritual side to sentinel lore. He gazed around him eagerly, his natural curiosity piqued, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was dressed rather differently than normal. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was wearing a short, leather kilt in the style of a Chopec tribesman, and his hair was adorned with beads and feathers. His chest and arms were painted with strange symbols, and there were leather sandals on his feet. 

_Wow! I look like some sort of shaman or medicine man! Cool!_ And he nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke almost in his ear, “Yes, Young Wolf. You are indeed dressed as you should be in this place!” 

Spinning around, he gazed wide-eyed at the smiling figure of Incacha, and a huge grin split Blair’s face as he held out his arms to the spirit shaman. “Oh, man! It’s so good to see you, Incacha! Jim was so devastated by your death, man. Thank you for showing yourself to me like this. Has Jim seen you also?” 

Accepting and returning Blair’s spontaneous hug, Incacha replied in mild exasperation, “Ever worried about your sentinel, Young Wolf! But that is what makes you special. A true shaman guide for your sentinel whether his stubbornness allows him to recognise it or not. 

“Yes, I have shown myself to Enqueri, and I believe he now understands his mistake in pushing you away. It is up to you now to decide whether you will meet him half-way and join as you should as two halves of one soul. Can you find it in you do to that?” 

Blair considered for a moment, a perplexed expression on his face. “Uh, yes, I think I could, Incacha. I mean, I never wanted to leave him, you know? Perhaps I should have fought back more instead of just giving up, huh?” 

Incacha nodded knowingly. “Yes, Young Wolf, you should, but you cannot be blamed for that. But now you realise it, you can do something about it. Are you prepared to try?” 

And this time Blair nodded firmly. “Yes, Incacha, I am! I love him, warts and all, and I will try and stay with him whether he loves me back or not.” 

Incacha’s smile was warm as he replied, “I think that Enqueri has seen the light, Young Wolf. So go now, and be as one!” and with his hand raised in benign benediction, he faded from sight, and Blair woke again in Simon’s spare bedroom, somewhat shaken by his experiences, but determined now to act on Incacha’s demands.  


\------------------------------------  


**Following morning, Simon’s apartment:**  


Early the next morning, a rumpled and sleep-deprived Blair sipped a large mug of coffee as Simon prepared to leave for the PD. “You going to go in to Rainier later, kid?” he asked, his grin at his houseguest’s dishevelled appearance breaking through. 

Blair grinned back wryly, unable to resist the big captain’s genuine affability and care for him. “Yeah, Simon. I have office hours later this morning, and then I need to start looking for somewhere to stay. You’ve been more than generous, man, but I can’t take over Daryl’s space for long. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

“No hurry, Sandburg,” Simon replied seriously. “Take as long as you need to find somewhere decent, you hear? Anyhow, I’ll be off. Take the spare key with you, OK?” 

Blair opened his mouth to thank Simon again for his kindness, when a knock on the door surprised them both. 

Frowning, Simon opened the door to reveal an unshaven and haggard-looking Jim, who looked every bit as bad as did Blair. 

“What are you doing here, Ellison?” Simon growled. “You look like something the cat dragged in. What do you want?” He glared at his subordinate, hands on hips as he took a protective stance in front of a shocked and speechless Sandburg. “If you think you can intimidate me or Sandburg here, detective, you’ve got another think coming!” 

Far from the aggressive response he might normally have expected from his friend, Jim simply shook his head in defeat, saying, “No, Simon. I’m not here to make trouble, I promise you. But I need to speak to Blair. If he’ll agree to see me, that is. I’ve been an ass, and I know it. All I want is the opportunity to make it right. If I can.” 

He moved slightly to look around Simon’s bulk at the small figure of his guide and friend – at least, he hoped Blair still was or could be again – concerned at the confusion and pain on the pale face. 

“Will you talk to me, Chief?” he murmured. “I swear I mean you no harm. And if you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll leave you alone, my word on it.” 

Both Simon and Blair knew very well that whatever other faults Jim might have had, he was a man of his word. An honourable man over and above everything else. 

So when Blair nodded in dubious assent, Simon said reluctantly, “OK, then. If it’s what Sandburg wants, you can come in. I’m going in to work, and I’ll leave you two alone to talk things through. But I’m warning you, Jim. You hurt that boy again, and you’ll have me to answer to!” 

To which Jim replied quietly, “If I hurt him again, you can take it out of my hide, Captain. I won’t stop you.” 

With a decisive nod and a speaking glance at both men, Simon left the apartment, not certain that he was doing the right thing, but praying that it was so for both their sakes. 

As soon as the door closed behind their friend, Jim turned to face his nervous guide. 

“Look, Chief, I know you have every right to be afraid of me. Of what I might do. But like I said, I promise that if you don’t like what I have to say, you can tell me to butt out. But I need to tell you what I know now. What I’ve finally realised, with a little help from an old friend. Call it an epiphany, if you will. Will you hear me out?” 

And of course, what else could Blair do?  



	5. Prompt - Frontier

**Chapter 5: Prompt – Frontier:**  


Still somewhat wary, Blair stepped back and indicated the kitchen table. “You want to sit down, man? The coffee’s still fresh if you’d like some.” 

Nodding in gratitude, Jim slid into the nearest chair and watched as his friend fixed him a mug. He could easily make out the tension in Blair’s demeanour, even from the back view, and sentinel hearing picked up the elevated heartbeats, but he could hardly blame the poor kid. Except that he wasn’t a kid, despite his youthful appearance, and Jim told himself firmly that he would do well to remember that. 

“Uh, here you go, man,” Blair murmured, placing the steaming mug in front of Jim before sitting down opposite him. “So. What did you want to tell me, man? Because I have to tell you that I’ve been thinking long and hard about where we’re going, and a lot depends on how you think of me now.” 

Taking a sip of coffee to give himself an extra moment to prepare himself, Jim put the mug down on the table and fixed his friend with a steady gaze, willing Blair to live up to his well-earned reputation for fair-mindedness and reasonability. 

“First of all, I want to apologise, Chief. For everything I’ve put you through over the past weeks. Saying ‘sorry’ isn’t enough, I know, but I mean it sincerely, Blair. I was totally out of order, and I don’t even want to try to make excuses for myself. Yes, I was shocked at Dad’s death. I never believed it could hit me so hard. But to try and apportion blame to you was unforgivable. All I can say is that I needed someone or something to blame, and you were the easiest target. And that was cruel and unreasonable in the extreme. 

“In my defence, if there is one, I think a lot of that so-called ‘blame’ was because you encouraged me to reconcile in the first place, and perhaps I felt that I’d have been better off remaining estranged and aloof. But I realise now that you did it with the very best of intentions, and it wasn’t your fault that Dad and Steven couldn’t see you for the generous, loving and loyal person that you are. And it was their loss. 

“My only real regret now is that Dad died before he could get to know you better, because then I’m sure he would have changed his mind.” He could tell that Blair wanted to speak, his expression one of real care and concern as Jim might have expected, so he held up his hand to stop him. 

“No, please let me get this out, Chief, without interruption. I need to get everything off my chest, then I promise it’ll be your turn, and I’ll listen to you, OK?” 

Nodding rather reluctantly, Blair sat back in his seat, attention fully focussed on Jim as his sentinel recommenced his tale. 

“See, the thing is, Chief, that I’ve gotten used to having you around. Gotten used to relying on your friendship and support even though I often gripe and moan about it. I realise now that everything you do for me isn’t just for the sentinel – for your dissertation subject – but for me. For _love_ of me, although I can’t understand why you should bother. And if you’re wondering how come I realise this at last, well, I have to tell you that an old friend of ours showed me the way last night.” 

Blair couldn’t help himself. He just had to speak out. “Um, I don’t’ suppose the ‘old friend’ was Incacha, by any chance, Jim? Because he told me a thing or two also, I have to admit. And it was so cool, man! He made me realise that I needed to fight for my place at your side, even if you didn’t want to accept it at first. He said…he said that you had ‘seen the light’, so…um…I hoped it meant that you realised that I love you, man,” and he blushed scarlet as he broke off and ducked his head, terrified now that he’d overstepped the mark and left himself open to ridicule or worse. 

However, he looked up again when warm hands covered his, relieved to see nothing in Jim’s face and expression but wonder and joy. And, yes, love also. Real love, warm and abiding. 

“I don’t know what to say, Chief! Except, thank you. Thank you for being the kind-hearted and forgiving person that you are. And the answer is ‘yes’, Chief. Blair. I _do_ love you, and not just as a friend or brother. So, if you feel the same way, will you consent to give me another chance and come back to the loft with me?” 

And his relief was overwhelming when Blair’s beautiful smile lit up his whole face as he nodded eagerly. “Yes, Jim. I will. But I give you fair warning, man. Don’t do this shit to me again, or I might not be so forgiving!” 

“Warning heard and heeded, baby,” Jim replied with a warm smile as he tenderly rubbed the soft skin over Blair’s knuckles with sentinel-sensitive thumbs. “You know what? I don’t think I’ve ever talked so much or for so long before! It’s really… _draining,_ isn’t it? How do you manage so well?” he chuckled. 

“Years of practice, man!” Blair replied with a laugh, but then sobered a little as he added wryly, “Sometimes it was the only way to get myself out of trouble,” and then ruefully, “or into it….” 

“Well, from now on, I promise to take more notice of you and your advice, Chief. And if I back-slide, you have my permission to kick my butt, OK?” 

At this Blair laughed merrily, then his face took on a comical leer as he snickered, “I’d rather do something else to your butt, man, not kick it!” which had the effect of making Jim laugh out loud in sheer joy. Rising to his feet, he came around the table and pulled Blair into a warm hug. 

“Then we really _are_ on the same page at last, babe. And all I want to do now is take you to bed and show you just how good of a bookmark I can be!” 

A muffled voice came from the region of his chest, where Blair’s face was pressed close. “I’m so down with that, man, but please, not here in Simon’s house. I think that’d be stretching his generosity too far, don’t you agree?” 

“Yeah, I think you’re right, babe. When he told us to fix things between us, I’m not sure just what sort of ‘fixing’ he had in mind. So let’s get your stuff together, Chief, and get back to the loft so we can continue this ‘discussion’ in the comfort of our bed.” 

“’Our bed’. I like the sound of that,” murmured Blair, and in accord once again, they pulled apart enough to exchange warm and loving smiles, blue eyes meeting blue as sentinel and guide reconnected and discovered the true meaning of commitment at last.   


\-------------------------------  


**Later, in the loft:**  


Jim prowled around restlessly, looking for all the world like his jaguar spirit animal as he waited impatiently for Blair’s arrival. Although they had apparently come to an understanding at Simon’s place earlier, he couldn’t help but worry that Blair might have had second thoughts. After all, Jim could hardly blame him after the shabby way Jim had treated him, and it would be his own fault if his young guide had gotten cold feet. 

The trouble was that, despite their excitement, there were practicalities to consider before they could literally jump into bed together, one of them being that they would be travelling in separate vehicles. Blair also needed to call the U and get one of the secretaries to post a note on his office door to say that office hours had been postponed for 24 hours. Jim could only pray that such mundane activities didn’t cause any cooling off on Blair’s part as common sense took over, because he knew - he _knew_ – he didn’t deserve Blair’s love and devotion. 

But he also had to believe Incacha’s words that they were meant to be together, and it was up to him to make sure Blair didn’t regret his decision to return. For sure he knew only too well that he wasn’t ever going to be perfect. Sweetness and light under all circumstances just wasn’t in his character. But he was going to make sure that Blair realised that he would never be thrown out of his home again by putting the young man’s name on the lease. And in fact he had just made the call to set that process in motion. 

So all he needed now was for Blair to show up so they could continue where they left off. 

And then there it was. The beloved heartbeat as Blair entered the building and made his way up to #307. It was slightly elevated, to be sure, and the young man’s addictive scent held a hint of nervousness, but he was here, and Jim’s heart swelled in love and gratitude as he opened the door to reveal his guide, and hopefully, soon-to-be lover.  


\-------------------------------  


As for Blair, he had indeed been fretting somewhat as he made arrangements to postpone his office hours and to call Simon both to thank him again for his hospitality and to explain what they were hoping to achieve by talking things through. He didn’t mention the possibility of sex, though. That would be too much information, and not something Simon needed to know yet. Maybe somewhere down the line as a friend, but as a captain, what he didn’t know officially, he didn’t have to act on. Because if Blair had his way, he would eventually be Jim’s official partner, and couples weren’t supposed to ride together. 

But that was yet to be discussed, and first things had to come first. And he too prayed that Incacha had had the right of it, and that he wasn’t making a huge mistake. 

And then he was pulling up outside 852 in his usual parking spot, and after taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, he climbed out of the car and entered the building, feeling his heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest. Could he do this? Yes, he could. He _would._ It was meant to be. He just had to believe it. 

And when the door opened even before he could knock, to reveal Jim – a nervously smiling Jim – he moved instantly into the arms that opened to welcome him, and felt as if he was truly home.  


\--------------------------  


“Thank you for believing in me, babe. For giving me this chance,” Jim murmured into a curl-covered ear as Blair tucked his head into the crook of Jim’s shoulder and neck. “I know we have lots to talk about, but right now, I need to hold you. To make love to you to show you how much I want and need you. And how much I love you. Can I?” 

And Blair nodded against him, although his reply held a not unexpected note of caution. “Yes, Jim. I’d like that too. But I need to tell you that this is the last chance I’ll give you. I need you to promise me that you’ll never treat like that again. Never push me away.” 

And far from being offended, as he might have feared, Jim simply nodded in agreement. “I promise, babe. And if I ever let you down again, I’ll deserve everything you can throw at me.” 

“OK, then. Bed now?” Blair chuckled hopefully. 

“You bet, babe!” and a happy, relieved and very amorous sentinel literally swept him off his feet and jogged up the stairs to the big bedroom, with Blair laughing hysterically as he made half-hearted attempts to escape Jim’s powerful arms. It felt so good to share their joy again, and when they landed on the bed in a heap of tangled limbs, their ardour burned bright as they strained together, their first kisses as heated as any they had ever shared with any other partner, if not more so. Their urgency was so great that they were never going to last long for this first time, and they barely managed to rid themselves of their outer clothing before the rubbing, frenzied touching and straining erupted in a virtually mutual climax which was as dramatic and revealing as any they had ever experienced before. Any and all barriers between them seemed to be blasted away as their very souls met and merged, and they knew that from now on they would be as one. They had crossed the final frontier, and sentinel and guide were bonded for life, for better or for worse. 

As they came down from their shared high, there was no need for words as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Their emotions and thoughts were all there to see in their somewhat dazed but wondering and satisfied expressions. And when they made love again, this time long and slow, both men learned everything they needed to know about each other as Jim took his guide for the first time, knowing that soon Blair would reciprocate, and the circle would be complete. 

Certainly they still had much to discuss. Blair had hinted that he had plans for becoming Jim’s official partner in a consultancy capacity once the diss was done. The alternative diss he had been working on in private because he had already known that his objectivity was compromised, and now was non-existent. 

Jim also had to explain how he had put Blair’s name on the loft’s lease, so that whatever happened, the young man would never be homeless again. 

But best of all was that they knew that they could face up to everything life could throw at them because they were together in all things. It was enough. 

As they settled down to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, in a blue-tinted jungle Incacha smiled complacently as he raised his hand in a blessing for two souls reunited once again as it was meant to be.  


**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that completes another bingo line. :)
> 
> K x


End file.
